


Red Desire

by PhoenixTucker



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M, Politics, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3237260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTucker/pseuds/PhoenixTucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm And Marianne Swift take dinner to a new level. How will journalist and communications director cope with the changes in politics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unexpected Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Some quotes have been taken from Season 3 ep 2,3 and 7.

     There are many words to describe a man. And there are many more to describe Malcolm Tucker.

Her gaze fell upon the Minister, Nicola Murray and the man by her side, Malcolm Tucker. Who didn't know who this man was. But they didn't know her, and that made her a threat.

Listening as Ollie Reader and Nicola listed off names of people who worked in the department before Nicola was quickly scurried away to the taxi. It was then that she was left with Malcolm, and the insults and swearing started. But she wasn't afraid of him, she knew how he worked and knew exactly how to bite back.

“Go on, fuck right off!” Malcolm waved to her as she walked away.

“Alright thanks” Marianne smiled as she shook her head, walking away from the Guardian offices.

 

* * *

 

**Eastbourne**

 

     Climbing out of the taxi, Marianne rolled her suitcase through the entrance hall and to the check in desk.

“I'd like to check in please, here for the conference, Marianne Swift” She spoke to the receptionist.

“Can I see your id please?” The woman asked, noticing her tag reading Judy. Marianne shifted through her bag and shower her her id. As the receptionist checked her id, Marianne looked to the security, in front of the camera she watched Malcolm Tucker having his photo taken before he waited for his security id. “Thank you, if you could go through security, you need to get your conference id's” The receptionist told Marianne when she looked back to Judy.

“Thanks” Marianne took her own id back and she walked to security to get her photo taken. Noticing Malcolm stalk away, papers in hand, phone glued to his ear.

Once she finally got through the security process, finding her room and unpacking the few items she had brought, Marianne headed to the bar for a drink. Getting a glass of orange, she noticed Angela Heaney stood with a small group so she walked over to them.

“Angela, I thought you would be here” Marianne spoke when the woman turned to her.

“Well this is the party conference Marianne, the press are generally involved” Angela spoke flatly. The two had known each other for a few years now and neither liked the other.

“Just goes to show they will let anyone in” Marianne smiled.

“Oh have we got a fight on our hands here. Who needs politicians, just let the press go at each other” Malcolm slid into the small circle of people, looking from Angela to herself.

“Hello Malcolm” Angela greeted him. Marianne glanced over his usual files he carried and the orange in his hand. Her eyes falling onto his own security id's. Smirking at his photo. Clearly Malcolm had been sending what could only be described as a look of death through the camera to the photographer. When Marianne looked back up she paused when she saw Malcolm staring at her. She was stood directly opposite him. A sly smile creeping on his face when he finally looked away and made a comment himself about the photo's.

“I mean these are the worst pictures that I've seen, they really are I mean I don't know who was taking them. Roy fucking Orbison you've got doing that” Malcolm stated and Marianne smiled before Angela spoke up about the health statistics blog. It was then that Malcolm rushed away, no doubt to clean up the extra pile of shit that had just been dumped on him.

“Well you fucked up his day even more” Marianne stated as she finished her orange.

“Too right someone should.” Angela said before Marianne left to do some work.

As she was heading back to her room, standing by the lift, Malcolm suddenly joined her side.

“Don't you just fucking love Angela Heaney” Malcolm muttered as he typed on his phone. The lift doors opened and Marianne stepped inside.

“She never has anything better to do than screw information from people in any way she can, no matter how unreliable...” Marianne said as she pressed the button for her floor, Malcolm reaching across and pressing his floor.

“That is what you all do...”

“No, some of us actually research first before writing a story. That is one of the many problems with Angela Heaney and the Daily Mail.” Marianne cut in, leaning against the back of the elevator.

“Oh well I am sensing a serious history between you two...not that I fucking care.” Malcolm stated before the lift stopped and he walked out. “Marianne” Malcolm said as she watched him go.

“Malcolm” She returned before the doors closed and the lift carried on upwards.

 

* * *

 

   Sitting in her room typing on her computer, Marianne's phone buzzed. As she read the message she laughed.

“Oh dear Malcolm, you are in trouble.” The rumours of him attacking someone in the hotel were flying around. This was something she had to see.

 

* * *

 

     A few hours later, back in the press room, it was then she saw what Malcolm did and to the man he did it too. Of course they would both deny it, but Christ, it looked a hell of a punch. Taking a seat with her wine she watched him try to worm his way out of it. It was amusing in a sense.

But as Malcolm does. He was quickly gone again. The man never did stay in one room for too long. As she left herself, she received a text message.

_'Join me to watch Nicola's speech. Room 316. Your favourite twat Angela Heaney will be there. Malcolm Tucker.'_

Marianne sighed. Saving the number into her phone. Although she wanted to question how he got her number in the first place. Well Malcolm had his ways.

_'I'll be there, can't wait'_

The reply came before she could even put her phone back in her pocket.

_'Such enthusiasm'_

Marianne just laughed and went back to her room. Sitting back down to do her work, writing up an article as she flicked through the blogs and other articles. She became so wrapped up that she lost track of time. Only realising when she got a message on her phone.

_'You missed a good speech'_

Looking at the clock Marianne cursed.

“Shit” She muttered and turned on the tv. Seeing the conference come to an end. “Fucks sake”

 

    Rushing out the door and to the lobby Marianne nearly screamed when she ran into Malcolm.

“Oh are we in shit?” Malcolm sneered.

“What...no, some of us were working, we can't all lounge drinking wine.” Marianne composed herself. “With Angela Heaney I might add”

Malcolm snorted. “Trust me, I would rather choose better company” Malcolm muttered as he watched her.

“Oh are you implying me Malcolm? I am flattered”

“Don't flatter yourself darlin” Malcolm played with his cuff. “I try to avoid as many of you hacks as I can” He carried on.

“Well it must be fun then. Being as it is your job to be around us” Marianne stated. “But I must say, you are looking sharp Malcolm.”

“I have a dinner to go too” Malcolm answered and she smiled to him.

“Well have fun. I have some of my own shit to fix” Marianne said and walked away as he re-entered the lift. Listening to the doors close and Malcolm once again disappeared.

 

* * *

 

    Of all the things she expected in the world, receiving a text message from Malcolm Tucker inviting her to his house was certainly at the back of the queue. She wanted to question why but hearing from Geoffrey that he was also going, Marianne started to realise the reason behind the invite.

Steve Fleming was back in the picture, no doubt this worried Malcolm.

So here she was, standing on the doorstep as the front or opened. Being greeted by Malcolm in the rare occasion of casual clothes. It was actually a nice change, some thing other than a suit looked good on him.

Jesus did she really just think that.

“Well fucking come in then” Malcolm's voice brought her back to the present. Watching him open the door she stepped inside. Shaking off her coat he took it from her and hung it up.

“Thank you Malcolm” Marianne said and down the hall she heard voices she recognized. “Hi Geoffrey” She smiled at the man who looked back at her.

“Marianne” Geoffrey acknowledged her.

“Take a seat, wine?” Malcolm asked appearing behind her, picking up the bottle.

“Go on then” Marianne smiled watching the wine fall into the glass before he handed it to her. Wrapping her fingers around the stem she took a seat on the sofa. Her eyes quickly scanning around the house. It was completely different to how she imagined. She expected it to be dark and full of books. Very much an old gentlemanly home with an ashtray holding an expensive cigar. But this couldn't be more different. Bright, modern, looking at the wall of DVDs, sure most of them couldn't even have been played once, more an object to fill space. And the books which spines weren't creased, as new as the day they were printed.

As she sipped her wine, she noticed the smell wafting from the kitchen. My god was Malcolm cooking. Picking up some of the poppadom's from a plate she spoke to Geoffrey of the latest news before Malcolm appeared with food on the table. He was in a very cheery mood. Something else that was new. But once again Malcolm's phone rang, when was he not on the phone.

Once he returned she sat back on the and finally let Geoffrey question Malcolm as to why they were here. He was up to something, regardless of his words. Malcolm didn't do charity, there was a purpose to inviting the four of them to dinner. Unless he really didn't have any friends.

But Marianne knew exactly where to strike.

“What about Tom bringing back Steve Fleming? That kind of makes you old news, doesn't it?” Marianne asked as Geoffrey piped up as well, seeing Malcolm tense slightly.

“This is about a guy sharing his ghee, that's it” Malcolm answered looking to Geoffrey.

“So you're not currying favour then?” Geoffrey asked and Marianne laughed, standing up she moved to the table.

“Sorry” She laughed, that had been funny.

“Fuck you, get out of my fucking house” Malcolm snapped at Geoffrey but he was smiling.

“That was good Geoffrey, I mean for you” Marianne smiled as she inspected the food on the table.

“I mean no wonder no one's buying your fucking paper” Malcolm said loudly as Marianne picked up a plate. She had to admit, it looked good.

“I must say Malcolm, I never took your for a chef” She noted as he suddenly slid up to stand beside her, getting a plate himself.

“A man has to have hobbies” He stated and she chuckled.

“I would have thought you would be more suited to practising the 101 ways to maim a man without leaving your chair” Marianne glanced to his profile.

“Oh I'm well versed in that already darlin” Malcolm said quietly as he watched the others take the food they wanted.

Sitting back on the sofa, her plate balanced on her lap, taking a bite she nodded, it was very nice. Watching as Malcolm pulled one of the dining table chairs around to join the circle.

“I'm surprised you didn't invite Angela Heaney along.” Marianne said flicking her eyes to him.

“Oh yea, well there's only so much of the woman I can take” Malcolm said before eating his rice. “Besides, since when did you and her become such bezzie mates?”

“Far from it Malcolm. All I heard was that she may soon be looking for a new job. What does that say if even the Daily Mail don't want her.” Marianne snided and Malcolm smiled at her.

“I like that. That's either hatred or fucked up jealously” He muttered.

“Jealous” She scoffed. “You are kidding right” Marianne scowled but no more was mentioned as they all ate their food.

It was, amazingly, pleasant conversation, she had to sat that Malcolm was actually a funny man. Or that he was playing up to them.

But why would he do that.

Putting her plate on the table and finishing her wine, Malcolm offered them all coffee. Watching as Geoffrey inspected the DVD collection. Turning back to Malcolm with the coffee, she had to bring it up again.

“This Steve Fleming thing is going to end in tears, isn't it? I mean, you sacked him last time” Marianne said and she saw she touched more of a nerve. Seeing him take a stance in front of her.

“Off the record right. While Steve is a use full tool, and I do emphasise the word use full” Marianne smiled but she continued looking up at him. “I'm still running the show” It was then that Geoffrey got Malcolm riled up and he charged at the man with the coffee. Oh who needed the latest action movies when you had Malcolm Tucker and hot coffee.

“Geoffrey, all I'm saying is this” She saw Geoffrey trying to look all macho but she saw the flicker of fear in his eyes. Maybe fear was too strong a word. But definite panic. “It would be very fucking appreciated if you could emphasise the fact that I'm at the heart of government. Because it's fucking true” He was getting pissed now. “I am the heart. I am the ventricles and the fucking aorta.” Marianne laughed shaking her head.

“Okay Malcolm, we get it. You're still the star of the show.” She smiled as Malcolm poured the coffee and Geoffrey continued to sign his death letter.

 

* * *

 

“Yeah yeah, fuck off back to your hovel!” Malcolm slammed the door shut and walked down the hallway. As he turned into the kitchen he jumped. “Fuck'in'ell, Jesus Christ!” Marianne turned and she she looked at Malcolm, she was just putting the dirty mugs in the dishwasher, force of habit from home. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked as she finished and stepped away from the counter.

“Sorry Malcolm” Marianne smiled as he moved past her to take over. She just walked to the other side of the kitchen, leaning back against the worktop.

“Fucking Geoffrey” She heard Malcolm mumbled and she laughed.

“Hey you invited him” She told Malcolm.

“Yeah wish I hadn't, should have just been you-”

“What?!”

“What” Malcolm turned sharply to her as she stood straight, looking at him, baffled.

“You just said-”

“No I didn't” Malcolm cut in and he quickly looked away, picking up a tea towel and he folded it before placing it neatly on the side.

“Malcolm, are you blushing?” Marianne smirked and watched his eyebrows furrow.

“You can fuck off now” Malcolm snapped and she laughed, pushing herself away from the counter.

“You know what Malcolm” Marianne watched him as he slowly turned around to face her, showing his bollocking face. “This charade you put on when you are wearing your suit...it's not nearly as scary as you think it is” Marianne crossed the floor towards him.

“You think you are so fucking clever” Malcolm snarled but he was silenced when Marianne took hold of his shirt and pressed her lips onto his. Muttering in shock he pulled away, stepping back from the woman. “What the fuck?!”

“Well...now I know what it's like to kiss Malcolm Tu-” Malcolm suddenly grabbed Marianne, pushing her back against the counter roughly, the edge dug into her back painfully, his hands gripping tightly to her waist and his lips locking with her own. He pressed his lips hard on hers, bruising them. She groaned as she raked her fingers through Malcolm's hair.

“Fuck” She heard him mutter as they broke away for air, but Marianne quickly tugged him back. Finding his lips, crashing together, his body pressing against hers as Malcolm forced her backwards to the sofa.

It was messy, the fumbling was ferocious, but it was hot, sweaty, damned exciting and wild. And it ended on the floor between the sofa and the table. Lying on her back, naked, chest heaving, she stared up at the ceiling lights. Listening to the man beside her taking deep breaths.

She hadn't been expecting that.

Slowly sitting up, looking down to Malcolm she moved her hair from her face.

“Well Malcolm, that was certainly...” She struggled to find the right word.

“Interesting” Malcolm offered as he watched her stand up, his eyes falling over her naked body.

“That's one way of putting it” Marianne smiled as she searched for her clothes. Finding her underwear behind the sofa she pulled them on. Tugging her top over her head before buttoning her cardigan. As she dressed she paused to look at Malcolm lying there, watching her.

“What are you staring at?” She questioned as she saw her skirt on the kitchen floor, picking it up and wriggling into it.

“Sorry darlin-”

“For what? Certainly don't apologise for what you just did” Marianne walked over to a mirror that hung on the wall and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I wasn't going to apologise for that” He stood now and pulled on his boxers. Marianne scoffed, deciding to tie her hair up as she watched his reflection. She was mental for doing this, completely. What could she gain? She didn't exactly have leverage, He had power, a lot of it, but she didn't want that either. A story...herself sleeping with Malcolm Tucker, no one would believe it nor care about it.

So why the hell had she kissed him, this man was a lot older...well not a lot but enough it could cause talking. She had to admit, although it had been a while for her. It was true to be said that men get better with age. He certainly proved that.

Now both fully dressed, Marianne walked to the door and slipped on her coat.

“We should do this again Malcolm” She said as she opened the door, looking back as he followed behind.

“Maybe so” Malcolm held the door open as she stepped outside, turning to look back at him.

“Only maybe?” She smirked at him before leaving his driveway, hearing the door close behind her.

She could only laugh at herself, what had she gotten into.

 

* * *

 

   Closing the door Malcolm quickly took out his phone from his trouser pocket and dialled Ollie.

“Malcolm where the hell have you been? I've been calling you constantly” Ollie's panicked voice barrelled down the phone.

“I was balls deep in a twat” Malcolm stated as he searched for his shoes.

“Well that's bullshit, you couldn't get anyone to willingly shag you” Ollie replied

“A mouth redhead, I certainly found a way to shut her up” Malcolm said, cradling his mobile on his shoulder as he tied his shoes. “About Andy Murray, ditch him, we can't go with the celebrities thing-”

Malcolm listened as Ollie started babbling about Nicola but he didn't pay a whole lot of attention. Nicola Murray was just a constant headache to him. He just looked to the floor, still able to moans from Marianne as he fucked her.

 


	2. Playing the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm and Marianne decide on some ground rules to keep things in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only originally going to be a two chapter story but it had since lengthened slightly, to three, with a possible forth.

        Everything happened quickly, the crime stats cock up which Marianne had figured out and published. To Malcolm Tucker's sudden resignation. She didn't know where to look first. Malcolm had taken the heat for the mess of the crime stats that she had reported. But they hadn't had any contact with each other since the dinner at his home. There were both busy people, well she was, Malcolm was in the shitter right now.

Then after two weeks Malcolm snuck back in, but his reappearance in government was over shadowed by the news of the election.

 

* * *

 

Right now, sitting in the press room, scribbling on her notepad she sat with the other journalists. Nicola Murray fighting for leader of the party, clearly that was Malcolm's doing. Clearly he had a moment of insanity.

 

* * *

 

Nicola looked through the glass of the door, watching the journalists.

“Oh god, I don't know if I can do this. Malcolm why the hell did you talk me into this. Why would people choose me over Dan Miller” Nicola bumbled while Malcolm stood looking at his phone. “Jesus, she's here as well”

“Who?” Malcolm muttered.

“Swine face...” She answered.

“Who the fuck is swine face?” Malcolm asked as he finally looked up from his phone.

“Marianne Swift...swine face swift” Nicola looked back to Malcolm to see him scowling.

“Swine face...right” Shaking his head he dropped the phone into his jacket pocket. “Time to face the music” Holding open the door he let Nicola through and to the podium as he walked to the back of the room, his eyes looking to Marianne but she didn't look at him.

 

The press call went well, all until Marianne opened her mouth.

“Minister, what do you say to those who are not confident in your potential leadership. Your multiple bad choices, your husbands PFI contract. The immigration data loss and then the crime figures mistake. How can the public be confident in you if you become the Prime Minister?” Marianne questioned and Nicola became flustered. She looked to the back of the room at Malcolm who had a furious look on his face. Ollie meanwhile gave her the signal to wrap it up. Nicola dutifully did so, thanking everyone before she vanished through the door she first entered through.

“Christ Ollie, I knew that was a mistake, I don't want that woman anywhere near me, she is determined to do anything in her power-”

“Okay let's just calm down, it went well in there, up to then it was good” Ollie tried to calm her.

“Let's just leave this god awful place, I need a shower” Collecting her things, pulling her coat on with force, Nicola looked around the room. “Where's Malcolm?”

“I believe he's going to deal with Marianne Swift” Ollie said as he guided her to the exit.

“Good, I won't see her again then” Nicola finally smiled as she left the building.

 

* * *

 

Slipping her notepad and recorder back into her bag, she zipped it up before throwing it over her shoulder. Standing from the chair, she realised she was the last to leave. Walking down the quiet corridor to the exit Marianne let out a quiet scream.

Someone had grabbed her arm and pulled her down a side corridor. Thrown into a storage cupboard she turned around to be faced with Malcolm. He looked furious.

“You...fuck, what the fuck was that?!” Malcolm stumbled with his words through gritted teeth.

“I could ask you the same question. What on earth made you think Nicola Murray would be a good choice, were you that desperate?” Marianne leaned back against a shelf as she watched Malcolm.

“Shut your mouth” Malcolm hissed and stepped towards her, invading her space. “I should destroy you, make sure you never publish a story again” he stood inches from her face.

“So why don't you?” Marianne held her ground, her eyes solid on his.

“That's not punishment enough” He whispered and he trailed his finger across her neck, over her chest, skimming her breasts that were on show. Marianne shivered, biting her lower lip as he unbuttoned her cardigan.

“So, how are you going to punish me?” She breathed, chest heaving, her cardigan falling completely open.

“I have a few ideas” Malcolm never took his eyes from her face. But leaning down, he pressed his lips to where his fingers once where. His hands falling to her waist, ruffling up her skirt as Marianne tugged at Malcolm's hair. If this was punishment, she wouldn't mind it more regularly.

Breaking away his lips from her chest, Malcolm stood straight. Staring at one another before their lips crashed together, kissing her ferociously. Marianne let out a low groan as Malcolm's fingers delved into her underwear. She gripped his hair tightly, legs becoming weak as he pushed a finger inside of her.

“Oh god Malcolm” Marianne whimpered, Malcolm wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her up on her feet. It sounded good hearing her moan his name. Forcing his tongue into her mouth, Marianne started grinding onto Malcolm's hand, her own fingers stroking his erection through his trousers.

“Fuck” Marianne groaned and bucked against him but gasped when Malcolm pulled his fingers away. “What...?” She stared, wide eyed at him but he just sneered.

“See you later sweetheart” Malcolm said, moving to the door.

“You can't just leave me like this” Marianne took heavy breaths, he had stopped just on the brink of her orgasm.

“Oh I can, and I am” Malcolm looked back at her, flashing his teeth before leaving the storage cupboard. Marianne took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair.

“Fucking cunt” She mumbled as she fixed her skirt and fastened her cardigan. She would get back at him for that.

 

* * *

 

 

Marianne jumped from the bed when a hammering came at the door. Groaning, she climbed out of the bed, pulling on her dressing gown she padded through the flat to the door. Glancing at the clock she jumped when the hammering started again. Looking through the spy hole she suddenly stepped back. _What the hell was he doing here?_ Opening the door she stared at him.

“Malcolm, its two o'clock in the morning”

“Fucking Nic'la, fuckin Ollie...and now fuckin Helen!” Malcolm pushed his way into the flat.

“Please...come in” Marianne muttered as Malcolm made his way to the living room. “How the hell did you find my address? And why the hell are you here?” Following Malcolm she watched him pace the floor.

“I can't stay in that building any longer” Malcolm hissed before he stopped and looked at Marianne by the door.

“So you came here?” She questioned, failing to see his logic. He stared at her, like he stared into her soul. Suddenly as if a bull on heat Malcolm charged at Marianne. Slamming her against the wall, his hands gripping her waist. “Malcolm” She whispered but Malcolm scowled before he kissed her. Pulling open the dressing gown Malcolm ran his eyes over her body. She only slept in her underwear, and that seemed to please Malcolm, as he leaned down and kissed Marianne's neck. “Malcolm, is this wise?” Marianne asked as her eyes fluttered closed, her fingers falling into Malcolm's hair.

“You really need to shut the fuck up” Malcolm growled before kissing her again.

 

 

 

** 5:32am **

 

With a low grumble Malcolm turned onto his back. Stretching his arm across the bed, feeling it empty he slowly opened his eyes. Hearing a shuffling around the room he looked to the noise.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He voice was rough, watching as Marianne zipped up a hoodie.

“Running, I run every morning, you should start” Marianne answered and Malcolm snorted.

“Fuck off” he grumbled and turned back over onto his other side.

“I'll be back in about forty minutes, give or take” Marianne moved to the door, glancing back to Malcolm under the duvet.

“Fucking mental” Malcolm muttered before he dropped back to sleep.

 

 

It wasn't until an hour later that Marianne got back to the flat. And she was actually shocked to see Malcolm still asleep. Tossing her hoodie onto a chair, she decided on a shower. After last night, and this morning, she had worked up a sweat.

Stepping under the hot water, Marianne washed her hair, closing her eyes as the soap fell over her face. As she was rinsing her hair Malcolm snuck up behind her, closing the shower door and kissing her shoulder. Tensing slightly she smiled as she turned around to face him. Kissing him as his hands cupped her cheeks. Her fingers trailing slowly down Malcolm's chest, finding his cock, wrapping her hand around it's hardness. Malcolm groaned against her neck, biting her skin. Hissing with pain and pleasure as Malcolm lifted Marianne and pushed inside of her. Moaning loudly, throwing back her head, Malcolm devoured her neck as he thrusted hard. She gripped his back, digging in her fingernails. He hissed against her skin as he pushed deep into her. Marianne panted and heaved for breath, clinging onto the tiles, trying to keep upright. 

Suddenly feeling the water shut off, Malcolm lifted her into his arms. Shocked by his strength as he carried her to the bed, lying her on her back.

“Malcolm, we are soaking wet” Marianne stated as she shuffled up the bed, Malcolm climbing on top of her.

“You bet you fucking are” Malcolm said as he kissed her chest, moving between her legs and licking his tongue along her heat.

“Oh fuck Malcolm” Marianne arched upwards, biting her lip. Gripping the sheets as he pushed his fingers inside her. God she loved Malcolm's long fingers.

Pulling Malcolm up she kissed him roughly, feeling him push her thighs apart with his knees, thrusting his erection into her, biting her bottom lip and she pulled his hair.

Feeling her body tighten, she moaned, wrapping her legs around Malcolm's waist, driving him deeper.

“Fuck” Malcolm grunted as he came inside her, Marianne orgasming around him. Taking a moment to catch their breaths, Marianne unwrapped her legs from around him as he lay by her side.

“If this...is going...to keep happening” Marianne was breathing hard as Malcolm stared at the ceiling, rubbing his fingers through his damp hair. “We need to establish some ground rules” With that Malcolm looked at her.

“Ground rules?” He questioned. Marianne smiled and she lay on her side, watching Malcolm.

“Yeah...like..” she thought a moment. “No one can know about this” She said and Malcolm scoffed.

“Too fucking right” Malcolm agreed.

“This is just sex” She added and Malcolm looked to her questioningly, eyebrow raised. “no strings attached, just sex” Marianne clarified.

“Fine by me, but no dates, dinner or bullshit like that” Malcolm said as he watched her hand lay on his chest, fingers playing with his chest hair. “No texting and calling all hours of the day, only time I want to hear from you are plans to set up a good fuck. I don't want to know how you're day is going, or what you're doing later...unless it involves me” Malcolm stated.

“Fine, but you better respect me Malcolm, start throwing those insults about and there will be no fucking” Malcolm turned and lay on her front, leaning on her elbows. “No more staying over-”

“You saying you don't want me?” Malcolm asked.

“No, I just think it could get a bit...”

“Intense” Malcolm muttered.

“Yeah, last night, I’ll let you off this time” She smiled to him.

“Oh thanks” He smirked. “But the most important rule, of any of this. No fucking falling in love” Malcolm said dryly as Marianne stared at him. After a moment they both burst into laughter.

“Fall in love with you, you are joking” Marianne laughed shaking her head.

“Going to have to write these down” Malcolm muttered as Marianne rolled out of the bed. Pulling on her dressing gown she looked at Malcolm.

“I'll put the kettle on” Marianne left Malcolm in the bed as she went into the kitchen. Able to hear movement in the bedroom as he got up. Flicking on the kettle she listened to it boil.

“How do you like it?” Marianne asked from the kitchen.

“Black” Came Malcolm's reply and she made the two drinks, looking at the floor as she picked up Malcolm's stray tie and his trench coat. Folding it onto the back of the chair.

As she was pouring the coffee Malcolm entered the kitchen, now fully dressed. Taking the coffee he took a sip as he leaned on the counter. Marianne looked Malcolm up and down, noting his creased shirt.

“Going to get changed at home before I get to work” Malcolm having noticed her eyeing him.

“Have you got time?” Marianne asked, glancing to the clock before back at Malcolm.

“I always make time” Malcolm stated before putting the mug down, reaching for his tie he pushed it into his pocket, before checking his phone, seeing a dozen missed messages. “Fuck, fucking Miller” he hissed and pocketed his phone. “Haven't fucking got time now.”

“well, you can't go in that shirt, wait there” Marianne quickly put her coffee down and went back into the bedroom.

Malcolm paused, phone in his hand, mid text as he stared at the door, wondering what she was doing. But soon she reappeared, in her hands holding a crisp white shirt. He was about to question why she had a men's shirt in her bedroom, but she spoke first.

“My ex, similar size as you, honestly I was sick of looking at it-”

“But you still kept it” Malcolm raised an eyebrow, Marianne hesitated, looking at the shirt before holding it out to him.

“Take it, give me some space in my dresser” Malcolm watched her before he took the shirt.

“You giving me clothes, this might be breaking one of the cardinal rules” Malcolm muttered but she just shrugged.

“Take it, leave it, I don't care, I’m going to get dressed” Turning around she left Malcolm again. 

Looking at the shirt he noticed the label. Paul Smith. The ex had taste. Unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing, tossing it onto the side he slipped the clean shirt on, it was slightly to big in the arms but it would work. Fastening the buttons he put on his tie, getting a whiff from the shirt, it smelt of Marianne. Unsure if he liked it or not he pulled on his jacket.

“Look, I'll text you when we should do this again” Malcolm called as he put on his coat, moving to the door.

“As long as we don't leave it as long” Marianne left the bedroom, in jeans and a red floral t-shirt. She walked up to Malcolm as he watched her.

“Oh that I promise you” Malcolm smirked to her before nodding. “Now I need to get the fuck out of this flat” Throwing open the door he stormed out.

Marianne just laughed and closed the door, now she should do some work for the day. Just what had Dan Miller been up too.

 

* * *

 

** July **

 

Malcolm sat at his desk, the sun shining strongly through the window. The heat was intense, the summer was at it's height and was not giving in for a moment. His jacket thrown away some time ago, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tie loose around his neck.

Nicola Murray had become leader of the opposition. How the fuck that had really happened Malcolm didn't really know. But here he was, still in some sort of power. 

He had been seeing Marianne at least twice a week, sometimes more. She was good to relieve stress, very good. They would frequently get together in hotels, but each week they often went to each other's flats. It worked, they made it work. When they were together, no business, no politics, no journalism, just meaningless sex.

They were meant to be getting together tonight. But with a pile of work Malcolm had to do, he knew he would have to cancel. Picking up his mobile, he contacted Marianne.

 

** 2:16pm **

_**To:** Marianne _

_**From:** Tucker _

_ Cancel tonight. Busy _

 

**2:18pm**

_**To:** Tucker _

_**From:** Marianne _

_ I'm leaving for two weeks tomorrow _

 

**2:18pm**

_**To:** Marianne _

_**From:** Tucker _

_ What! Why the fuck didn't you tell me?! _

 

**2:21pm**

_**To:** Tucker _

_**From:** Marianne _

_ I was going to tell you tonight. So will have to tell you now. _

 

**2:22pm**

_**To:** Marianne _

_**From:** Tucker _

_ Where the fuck are you going? _

 

**2:23pm**

_**To:** Tucker _

_**From:** Marianne _

_ Actually...Scotland. _

 

Malcolm stared at his phone. Was she being fucking serious. Going to fucking...Christ. Watching his phone Sam entered his office with a stack of files.

“Thanks Sam” Malcolm muttered as she put the papers on the desk. “Sam, get my diary for the next couple of weeks”

“Sure Malcolm, anything I can help with?” Sam asked him.

“No, I can sort this myself” Malcolm sat back in the chair and watched her leave, soon returning with the diary. “Thanks” Taking the book he dropped it open in front of him.

“If you need me” Sam smiled going back to her own desk as Malcolm muttered a reply, seeing how full his diary was. And this was without the cock ups he had to go through.

 

* * *

 

 

**Ten Days Later**

 

“For fucks sake!” Malcolm shouted, pacing his office, clutching, squeesing his phone in his hand. “SAM!” He bellowed, leaving his office, meeting Sam in the corridor. “Cancel everything, I'm taking the day, fuck this” Returning back to his office he tugged on his jacket, it was still too warm for a coat. “Going to get some fucking peace, I haven't slept in three fucking days. I don't want any calls, any bullshit, nothing” he stated and Sam nodded. She was only able to watch as Malcolm left the office and the building without another word.

 


	3. Finding Our Choices

**Glenshiel, Scotland**

 

        Marianne couldn't get enough of the view. What beauty was held in the Scottish Highlands. She had been here over a week already but every time she stepped outside the cottage it took her breath away. How could anyone ever leave this place.

The mist resting softly on the mountain peak. The sun just breaking through the clouds ready to dry the morning dew on the grass under her feet. The lake, silver in the sunlight lay perfectly flat, mirroring the mountains and trees surrounding it. Smiling as she saw a Pine Marten dancing through the tree's by the cottage. She was so glad to have done this, come here, get away from it all.

As the Pine Marten's scurried away, a knock sounded at the door. Wondering who it could be being in the middle of no where. Leaving the mountains she entered the house, walking through the living room to the front door, opening it and she froze.

“Malcolm?” She stared at the man in the front of her, wearing suit trousers with a dark blue jumper. He looked tired, stressed and ready to keel over. “What the hell are you doing here?” Marianne questioned.

“You haven't been replying to my texts, emails.” Malcolm stated.

“No signal” She answered and Malcolm looked at his phone, seeing no bars and he sighed.

“Come on” Marianne led Malcolm inside, closing the door behind him. “Seriously, why are you here?” She asked again.

“Tired of waiting” Malcolm muttered, eyes scanning the living room.

“Waiting for what?”

“You” Malcolm charged at Marianne, pushing her against the wall and kissing her lips bruisingly hard.

“Woah, excuse me” A voice appeared and Malcolm shot around. Hands dropping from Marianne's waist. Staring at the towel clad half his age Greek God of a man. His hair wet, clearly having been showering.

“Oh...well” Malcolm stepped further back from Marianne. “Course” He muttered. “Look hey” Malcolm looked back to the half naked man. “Clearly I stumbled in on something” Without giving anyone a chance he stormed out of the front door. Marianne looked to the man before to the open front door. Taking the decision and she ran after Malcolm.

“Malcolm!” Seeing him by his car. “Malcolm! Wait!” Grabbing his arm she stopped him from opening the door. “Why did you come? For sex? Did you miss it? Miss me?” Throwing questions at him.

“Who the fuck was he?” Malcolm scowled at her through gritted teeth.

“Just, just a guy-”

“Just a guy, just a guy you went on holiday with” Marianne could see how furious he was. “Are you sleeping with him? No fuck don't answer that”

“He's just a guy, a friend”

“But you are sleeping with him” Malcolm dropped his steely gaze from her, leaning back against the car.

“Yes I have slept with him. Malcolm we both agreed that we weren't exclusive” Marianne stared to him, folding her arms over her chest as he dragged his fingers over his face.

“So you were with other guys as well as me?” He mumbled.

“No, I never slept with anyone but you, until rob, I didn't need too, I didn't want too. You made me happy...more than”

“But now you have...Rob” Malcolm spat.

“No...” Marianne frowned. “You know what Malcolm, if I had to choose between you and him, it would be you, I don't know why, but it would” Marianne spoke honestly but she sighed, looking to the ground. “These past few months have been good, I don't want that to end. Come inside, I'll get rid of Rob and we can carry on where we left off.” Marianne slowly looked back at his face and she put her hand on his chest, running her fingers over the fabric. “Besides, I'm not letting you come all this way for nothing” She smiled and Malcolm finally looked at her.

“I'm fucking knackered” He muttered and Marianne nodded, taking his hand she led him back into the cottage. The man named Rob stood, now fully dressed, bag beside him.

“Look, I don't want trouble mate. I'm gonna go” Picking up the bag he walked to Marianne, avoiding Malcolm's eyes. “It was good darlin, call me...if you want” he kissed Marianne's cheek but she smiled.

“I won't be Rob, but...thanks” She told him and he nodded, turning to Malcolm.

“Be good to her”

“Fuck off kid” Malcolm hissed and watched Rob leave the cottage. “Seriously, that wet mop, what the fuck did you see in him” Shaking his head Malcolm fell back onto the sofa and pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes.

“Malcolm, you look like shit, what's been going on?” Marianne asked, sitting on the opposite sofa.

“Fucking Nic'la” He mumbled before dropping his hands.

“Isn't it always” Marianne watched him before she stood up. “Go get some sleep, I bet you were driving through the night”

“I'm fine” Malcolm said but Marianne moved into the kitchen and put the kettle on, making Malcolm a strong coffee.

“I still can't believe you came, driving up from London, that's crazy” Marianne spoke. “Do they actually know you have left?” She asked but didn't get a reply. Carrying two mugs back into the living room she put Malcolm's on the table and smiled. He was fast asleep. Placing her own mug down she moved closer to Malcolm. “Lie down” She whispered gently and carefully lay Malcolm on his side. Malcolm muttered but he didn't wake properly. Once laying down, Marianne placed a blanket over him. Leaving him to rest she took her drink outside, sitting on the patio, once more admiring the view.

 

 

It was a couple of hours before Malcolm woke. Marianne heard the door slid open and Malcolm step outside.

“Hell of a view” He stated. Marianne still sat on the chair, a sketch pad on her lap.

“Sure is” Marianne said putting her pencil down as Malcolm came to her side.

“Nice, didn't know you could draw” Malcolm complimented.

“Yeah, I did it a lot before I became a journalist, never had much time for it before now” Marianne leaned back in the chair and looked up at Malcolm. “Feeling better?”

“A little” he mumbled and Marianne smiled, standing up from the chair.

“Come on then” Taking his hand she took him inside, throwing the sketchbook onto the table as she guided Malcolm to the bedroom. Once there she turned around and faced him, reaching for the bottom of his jumper but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists tightly.

“I don't think you deserve to be let off lightly, you slept with someone else, you think I can forgive you so easily for that” Malcolm hissed staring at Marianne.

“So, how will you punish me?” Marianne couldn't help but smile, which she knew would annoy him.

Gritting his teeth Malcolm threw Marianne onto the bed. Pulling his jumper from over his head, tossing it across the room before he kicked off his shoes. Climbing onto the bed, he crawled on top of Marianne who lay near the headboard. She ran her hands up his chest, over his neck but just as she reached his hair, Malcolm pulled her arms away.

“You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself” Malcolm ripped off his belt and fastened it around her wrists and onto the headboard.

“Now this is new Malcolm, never took you for s and m” Marianne grinned up at him, arms above her head.

“Shut up” Malcolm spat and kissed her, biting her neck, Marianne groaned as he left a mark. Leaning up Malcolm took hold of her shirt, ripping it open, sending the buttons flying. Placing his hands on her smooth flat stomach as he looked at the plain black lacy bra she wore. Her chest was heaving, her heart already pounding for what was to come.

Kissing between her breasts as his hands moved down her waist and between her legs. But the barrier of her jeans frustrated him. Sitting up again he unzipped the denim, pulling them over her waist, Marianne lifted her legs out before Malcolm looked over her skimpy underwear.

“Oh I’m going to make sure you never look at another man” Malcolm's voice was low, fierce. Running his fingers between her legs, feeling the heat, how wet she already was. Listening to the moan that came from her mouth, wriggling her hips, lifting them as Malcolm pulled her knickers down. Pressing his lips on her inner thigh, creeping slowly upwards. Pushing her legs further apart he watched Marianne fight with the restraint, bucking under his tongue.

“Malcolm please” Marianne moaned as Malcolm pushed a finger inside her.

“No matter how much you plead, it isn't going to work” Malcolm whispered in her hear as he pushed a second finger inside her, moaning in his ear. He took her breasts into his mouth, sucking hard on her nipples as her bra was thrown across the room.

“You are wearing far too many clothes Malcolm” Marianne spoke through ragged breaths. As she said that Malcolm sat up, removing his fingers and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it away from his arms and dropping it on the floor. Looking at her face, her eyes pleading, he knew she was desperate to touch him. But she had brought this on herself. Taking off his trousers, Malcolm crawled back over her, erection hard in the tight fabric of his boxers. Marianne arched her hips up, trying to grind against him but Malcolm just moved further away.

Malcolm sneered and he kissed her lips, pulling at her bottom lip as his hand snaked over her waist, lying between her legs. Squeesing her breast before he pushed off his boxers. Looking to her face her eyes locked with hers, seeing such lust and desire for him.

“Tell me how much you want this, how much you need me” Malcolm stared at her, Marianne whispered, feeling him between her legs.

“Please” She moaned.

“Oh no, that's not good enough” He whispered.

“Fuck please, god I need you Malcolm” Marianne groaned, tugging at the belt holding her wrists, arching her breasts upwards. “I need you inside me” She begged him loudly. Malcolm smiled, accepting that and he pushed into her. But he didn't untie her arms. Gasping for breath in every thrust she stared up at him. “Please untie me Malcolm” Marianne moaned in his ear but Malcolm laughed.

“Not a chance darlin” He hissed as his lips once more found her neck. Sweat beaded his forehead, the temperature rising as the sun shone through the window, beating down on his back. Listening to her moan his name, it was such a good sound to his ears. Having to have gone over a week without this had been hell, but this made up for it. Taking her between his legs, that was worth the wait. Fuck it was good.

As she screamed in pleasure, Malcolm groaned as he came deep inside her. Marianne tightened around him, clamping her legs around his waist as her body shook in orgasm.

Taking slow heavy breaths, Marianne dropped her legs away, letting Malcolm roll onto his back. Both of them watching the ceiling, a light breeze blowing through the open window. Slowly climbing off the bed she picked up Malcolm's shirt. Winking at him as he watched her put it on, only fastening a couple of the buttons. Leaving the bedroom Malcolm shook his head, laughing to himself before running his hands over his face. The realisation coming to him. He had dropped everything and driven all through the night to Scotland to have sex with a woman. Christ he was fucked up. No, he was shattered.

As Marianne came back inside, holding two glasses of water, she handed one to Malcolm.

“Thanks” Malcolm took the water, sipping it before putting it on the side table as Marianne sat back on the bed, leaning against the headboard, seeing her holding his belt in her hands.

“This is a nice belt” Marianne held the leather through her fingers. “Think it's strong enough to hold a man?” Marianne smirked looking over to Malcolm, seeing him watching her hands, his eyes wide. “Maybe we can test it later”

“Only later?” Malcolm asked quietly and Marianne smiled.

“Need to work back into things, neither of us are as young as we used to be” Marianne said as she stood pulling on her knickers.

“Hey, speak for yourself darlin, nothing can stop me” Malcolm stated as Marianne just laughed before leaving the bedroom again. Shaking his head he lay down and watched the ceiling, waiting for her to return. Rubbing his eyes he yawned, relaxing on the surprisingly comfortable bed.

 

 

 

Walking into the bathroom Marianne washed her face in the sink, running her fingers through her hair, god she always got terrible sex hair. Trying to tame it to no avail. Sighing she walked back into the bedroom, pausing when she heard a light snoring. Looking to see Malcolm once again fast asleep, lying on his side, holding the duvet close to him. He looked so calm and peaceful, a completely different person to when he was awake. It was almost sweet.

That made her laugh to herself.

Tugging on her baggy jogging bottoms Marianne left Malcolm to sleep. Getting a drink from the fridge she found herself back outside, yet again taking in the glorious view before her.

 

* * *

 

**8:16pm. Five Hours Later**

 

Grumbling out of his sleep, Malcolm looked around the room. For a moment he wondered where the hell he was. Untangling himself from the covers, his bare feet landing on the cold hard wood floor. Looking to see his clothes laid out on a chair. Pulling on his trousers on before he buttoned on his shirt. Realising they were the only clothes he had with him. Making his way into the bathroom he washed his face, using the toilet before he walked through the cottage, a smell rising to his nose. Finding it coming from the kitchen and witnessed Marianne stirring food in a pan. Noticing Malcolm enter she smiled.

“You look better, sleep did you good” Marianne said as she continued cooking. Malcolm sat at the table, seeing a large bowl of salad in the middle.

“I like the pale cancer colour” Malcolm muttered. Turning his attention to the bottle of wine, inspecting it. “Screw cap...Jesus” He said quietly as Marianne sat down opposite him at the table.

“What?” She asked as Malcolm poured the wine into the two glasses.

“Nothin” Malcolm said as she spooned the salad onto both the plates. “Did you make all this?”

“No Malcolm, I rang up the local Italian and got them to bring it...” Marianne stated, full of sarcasm. Malcolm just rose an eyebrow as he put a tomato in his mouth.

“Such a comedian” He mumbled.

“And you're such a dick” Marianne sipped her drink as Malcolm smiled at her now.

“I love your dirty talk” He sneered staring at her as she shook her head.

As he ate, Malcolm realised he hadn't even looked at his phone since yesterday. He knew there would be no messages or missed calls due to lack of signal but that wouldn't stop him checking. Thinking about it though, he had no idea where his phone even was.

“I put it on charge” Malcolm looked at Marianne curiously.

“What?” He questioned.

“Your phone, you are normally glued to it, I found it on the floor by the sofa, it was dead so I put it on charge” Marianne answered him.

“Thanks” Malcolm said as Marianne dished out the spaghetti bolognese.

“I kind of lied to you though” Marianne muttered as Malcolm forked the meatball into his mouth. “There isn't any phone signal, but there is wifi” she said, avoiding Malcolm's steely gaze. With a clatter Malcolm was gone from the table and ripped his phone from the cable by the sofa. “I just figured you came here for a reason. You wanted to get away from work, you wouldn't have come all this way to just have sex with me” Marianne watched him

“Twenty three fucking emails. All wanting to know where the fuck I am” Malcolm looked at her now. “You're right, fucking right, why the fuck did I come, to have sex with you...fuck sake” Malcolm left the living room and disappeared. Marianne just sighed.

“Malcolm...don't get all pissy with me, I didn't ask you to come here”

“No, you had to travel to the other end of the fucking country” Malcolm stormed back in, fastening his belt.

“Only two weeks-”

“Two fucking weeks too long!” Malcolm shouted

“Why did you come Malcolm, we always agreed, no holidays, no sleeping over, no dinner” Marianne rose from the table, looking to the food before back to him. “Why? Are things changing....are you? Do you-”

“Oh fuck off, you're like a fucking happy meal, small, cheap and fucking greasy. You should start wearing tighter skirts, keep your fucking legs together” Malcolm hissed approaching Marianne, spitting venom.

“Get out Malcolm, fuck off back to London, to a job you hate but can't bring yourself to stop doing. Go home, be miserable” Marianne wrapped her cardigan tightly around herself and she stepped out the back door.

Taking a deep breath Marianne watched the stars. Before she walked out she had seen Malcolm's face, the hesitation in his anger, the flicker of something more, shit...was there something more. God was she even thinking of it. Looking to the lake she winced, hearing the front door slam and the car engine start. She hadn't really wanted him to go.

Sighing heavily she shocked herself, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. Why was she crying over Malcolm Tucker? His words had hurt. Wiping her cheek, getting rid of any tears and she went back inside, curling up on the sofa , wishing none of this had ever started.

 

* * *

 

An hour away Malcolm slammed the car door shut. He knew not to drive angry. And he was fucking fuming. She was wrong, he was good at his job, he liked his job, he was needed there. Fuck Marianne, fuck her and her needs. He could go elsewhere. 

So why was he so pissed. Maybe he did over do it. She hadn't done anything wrong. They weren't exclusive, they weren't a relationship, it was sex, just sex. If he had been so desperate he could have gone elsewhere, but he didn't, he drove seven hours from London through the fucking night to see her, to fuck her.

Jesus was it becoming more.

 

 

Fuck off

Back in his car he sped out of Scotland back to what was safe.

 

 

* * *

 

**November**

 

“Okay Malcolm you sort out that reporter while I get Nicola prepped” Helen closed her folder and stood up. Looking at Malcolm who sat hunched over the desk. Ollie chewing on his pen as he eyed Helen and back to Malcolm. Malcolm bit his tongue, slowly sitting back in the chair. Collecting his papers together he rose to his feet.

“You don't need to tell me how to fucking do my job” Malcolm stated, glancing quickly at Ollie he left the meeting room to go back to his office.

Sitting at his desk Malcolm sighed, phone in hand.

He hadn't spoken to or seen her since Scotland four months ago. Malcolm knew he had been petty and an idiot. But he missed those legs of hers, the moans and cries of pleasure that would escape her lips.

“Fuck” Malcolm ran his hand over his face.

Looking for the number, he put the phone to his ear, waiting for it to be picked up. “Geoffrey” Malcolm heard the man answer.

“Malcolm...what can I do for you?” Geoffrey asked.

“I need you to get me Marianne Swift, I need her for a one on one with Nicola Murray” Malcolm leaned back in his chair.

“Why Marianne? If it's just a simple interview I have plenty you can have”

“Because I need her, why the fuck would you care who I want-”

“I don't care who you want. Very touchy on the subject Malcolm. Besides, she's not with us any more” Geoffrey said and Malcolm paused.

“What do you mean she's not with you any more. Where has she fucked off to now?” Malcolm leaned forward on his desk. Picking up a pen and scribbling on the file in front of him.

“New York” Geoffrey said bluntly. Malcolm nearly choked.

“What the fuck do you mean New York!” Malcolm didn't believe it. Something like that, she would tell him.

“She got offered a position at the New York Times. Actually I think she is leaving today. I think...three o'clock if her flight...so anyway, I have Mark, I can sort-” Malcolm hung up the phone before Geoffrey could finish.

 

* * *

 

“Your boarding pass ma'am” The lady passed over her boarding pass tucked into her passport. 

“Thank you” Marianne put her passport back into her small bag.

“Have a good flight” The lady smiled and Marianne returned it.

Having checked in her bags, she glanced again at the departure board. It was just before twelve, the plane was still on time. Walking through the mass of people she headed to departures.

“MARIANNE!” She froze, hearing her voice shouted through the airport. Turning peoples heads as Marianne turned also.

“Malcolm?!” She couldn't believe it. What the hell was he doing here. How did he know she was here? Slowly walking across the floor, Malcolm ran to her, stopping, breathing heavy, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he doubled over, hands on his knees. “Malcolm...what on earth? Why...how?” Marianne was baffled as Malcolm stood up straight.

“I'm sorry” He gasped and regained his breath. Opening her mouth to question but he carried on. “For all the shit I said, I'm sorry”

“It's okay Malcolm, I have never been mad at you” Marianne watched him.

“But you didn't call or text or-”

“Neither did you” Marianne told Malcolm and he sighed.

“How did you know I was here?” She asked.

“I spoke to Geoffrey, he told me you got a job at the New York Times, and that your flight was today” Malcolm explained and Marianne smiled.

“And what...you've come here to stop me?”

“Actually, there's a hotel nearby, your flight isn't until three, some time to kill, and well we need to catch up” Malcolm had a cheeky smile touching his lips and a sparkle in his eyes, it made Marianne's legs go weak and she chuckled.

“An offer I couldn't refuse Malcolm” She smiled but sighed. “But I can't, times change Malcolm. I've changed, but I know you never will. It was fun, very fun, and I don't regret a second” Marianne spoke softly, seeing the sparkle fade. “You'll find someone else to have a good time with” Taking a deep breath she looked back at the departure sign. “I have to go” Slowly turning she walked a few metres away.

“Stay. Don't go, stay here” Malcolm's voice was quiet, soft, completely unlike him. It made Marianne stop and look at him. He was pleading. Moving back to Malcolm she stopped mere inches from him. 

Taking hold of his jacket, she reached into his inside pocket, taking out a pen. Pulling off the lid she took hold of his hand. 

“This is my phone number over there. If, for some crazy reason you find yourself over there, give me a ring. I know it's unlikely you would go, but, just in case” Marianne wrote the number on his palm before putting the pen back into his jacket pocket. Trailing her fingers the front, his tie in her hand. With a heavy sigh she looked back up to his face. The look said it all really. He really didn't want her to go. “You'll be fine Malcolm” Marianne stroked his cheek before leaning up and kissing him softly. Feeling him wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, tighter. The kiss made her re-think going to that hotel but she pulled back, running her fingers through his soft hair.

“If you ever do come back...” Malcolm whispered and Marianne nodded.

“The first number I call” She said and kissed him briefly before Malcolm brought her into a hug. 

“Don't have too much fucking fun out there” He whispered in her ear before they both came away. Breaking apart Marianne looked over Malcolm. She wouldn't see him again. But hell, she would remember. 

“Bye Malcolm” Smiling she turned around and walked through the departure gate.

As she walked, Marianne bit her lip. Should she look back. No, that only meant one thing. He wouldn't still be there. 

What if he was? No, this was Malcolm. It was just sex.

Shit

She looked around.

Shit

He was still there. Watching her. He waved. A sweet sad little smile.

Oh fuck.

No, turning around she continued. She couldn't think about it. About that possibility.

 

 

Malcolm stood, frozen, watching Marianne leave. Sighing he opened his hand and looked to the numbers. Putting it in his phone before checking the time. He had to get back to work. 

Walking out of the airport he put his mobile to his ear.

“Geoffrey...about this Mark?” Malcolm asked as he walked back to his car, chancing a loot back at the airport, sighing he turned on the engine and got back to what he knew.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some may be curious as to why i wrote about this pairing. Well there is some logic to it. We all know that in S1 ep2 about Malcolm's girlfriend Kelly Grogan the BBC Health correspondent, leaving him for Simon Hewitt. So this shows that although Malcolm isn't over fond of journalists, he is open to relationships with them.  
> Then Marianne comes in. From suddenly meeting in the street, Malcolm throwing shit at her, and well her not backing down, to suddenly being at his house. And the way they acted with one another was something interesting. So i came up with this.
> 
>  
> 
> So this is the end of the story. Well this is the end how i originally planned.
> 
> However.
> 
> There is an alternate extra ending. As i said this is how the story ends. But if people want to read the alternate, then let me know, comment, review, whichever and i shall post it up.
> 
> Otherwise, thanks for reading, i hope it provided entertainment and enjoyment.


	4. Alternate/Extra Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just an alternate ending, for those who wanted to see a bit of happiness end for Malcolm.

**Three Years Later**

 

The trial had taken it's toll. Malcolm was tired. Tired of politics, of politicians, media, tired of everything. After the inquiry and a nine month wait to trial, nothing came to light. Lack of evidence so they said. But it was over for him. The press still hounded him. His house was gone, selling it, instead having a pokey little flat in the centre of London. He'd had to get rid of the house, being jobless made things more difficult, so he couldn't have a big house on his own, not in London. Though he had plenty of savings, that was always for a rainy day...so he said.

And now he found himself striding through JFK airport and out the doors. A duffle bag over his shoulder, Malcolm looked at all the yellow cabs lined up in front of him. Shifting the bag on his shoulder he walked over to the first taxi, opening the door and throwing the bag inside before climbing in.

“I need a hotel, cheap but not a shit hole” Malcolm looked to the driver who looked over his shoulder to look at Malcolm.

“Sure” Starting the car he drove away from the airport. “Where you from?” He asked and Malcolm sighed.

“I'm Scottish, and really have no interest in fucking small talk so just concentrate on driving” Malcolm stated.

“Yes sir” The driver muttered and Malcolm watched out the window.

 

 

Some time and heavy traffic later the cab stopped outside a hotel.

“Thanks” Paying the driver Malcolm climbed out and gaped up at the buildings towering over him. Dwarfed by the city.

So this was New York.

He wasn't sure at what moment he took the decision to board a plane. But before he even realised, he had landed. Why the hell New York, well, deep down he knew why. He just had to find her.

Dumping his bag onto the bed, he changed his shirt, washing his face. He knew where to begin, but he just helped he would get lucky.

 

Walking through the streets, Malcolm looked from building to building. Tracking down the right place and looked a the writing. The New York Times. Moving inside, across the lobby Malcolm approached the lady sat behind the reception desk.

“Excuse me” Malcolm watched the woman look up from her computer, noting the blue tooth set in her ear. “I'm looking for Marianne Swift. I know she worked here and, well, she might still be here” Malcolm felt stupid but he spurred on.

“Ms Swift, she is the Deputy Managing Editor here” The woman replied and Malcolm paused. She was still here, holy shit. “Would you like an appointment with Ms Swift? She isn't in today but-” She turned to the computer, reading the screen. “She has availability on thursday at 11:30”

“Thursday...er..no, it's fine, I er, never mind” Malcolm turned and quickly left the building, taking a deep breath. Christ, well she was doing well for herself now.

On the street he turned in a circle, overwhelmed by the noise, the pollution, he never thought he would feel it but it made him feel small and rather claustrophobic. Fuck, that reminded him of Nicola Murray.

Letting his feet take him, Malcolm found himself in Central Park. He hadn't realised he had walked that far for that long. Taking a deep breath he finally took in some clean air and he found a bench, watching the people around him, the joggers going past him. Kids running around, climbing on rocks, throwing balls, doing what kids do. Sighing, Malcolm held his head in his hands, what the hell was he doing here.

 

* * *

 

 

The last three years had been a busy time for Marianne. New York was very different to London. It was so much faster, louder. Everyone was always in a rush, well they were in London, but this was a whole other level. And she had become part of the rush. So when she wasn't working, writing or sat in her office, she was jogging. That was her way to relax, her only way. Being so busy, it was all she had . Central Park was her place to go, it was nearby, and a beautiful place. Ipod in her ears, she listened to the music, the beat in rhythm with her feet pounding the ground. Stopping by the pond, Marianne took a deep breath, unclipping her water bottle from her waist and took a long drink. Hands on her waist she sighed, taking in the surroundings. Fastening the bottle back on she once again got going.

 

Malcolm groaned and sat back up. Looking in front of him to see another jogger stop and catch her breath. He watched her for a moment, admiring before she left again. Hearing his stomach grumble, Malcolm realised he hadn't eaten since he left the UK fuck knows how long ago. Leaving the bench, and the park, he looked for somewhere to put food in his body.

 

* * *

 

**The Following Day**

 

After a hell of a long sleep, Malcolm was up and about, not bothering to shave, he hadn't for a while now, letting it grow free. Malcolm left the hotel for the streets. Spotting a newspaper stand and picked up a copy of the New York Times, paying the vendor before tucking the paper under his arm, needing his morning coffee.

Opening the cafe door he jumped back sharply as a woman exited.

“Sorry darlin” He spoke, looking to the red head in a hat and sunglasses. She was too busy on the balancing of her drinks to look at him.

“Thanks” She said quickly before walking down the street. Shaking his head he entered the cafe, he was quickly learning about this fast paced city.

Getting a black coffee he took a seat by the window, allowing him to watch passers by, but for now he spread the paper on the table, putting on his glasses and started reading. He needed to see how she was doing.

Two coffee's and a slice of cake later, Malcolm left the coffee shop and decided to explore what this city had to offer.

 

* * *

 

**A Week Later. Tuesday. 11:24am**

 

Opening her note pad, Marianne flicked her finger across the screen of her tablet, scrolling through the web page. Finding the right section she stopped and got writing.

“Just a normal sized fucking cup”

Marianne hesitated with her pen, the voice carrying through the cafe.

“My name? What the fuck do you need to know what for?”

That was a thick Scottish accent, one she knew. No, surely not.

“It's Tucker”

Marianne froze, pen stopping and she looked up. My god, it was. There he stood, at the counter, passing over his money before he waited for his coffee, hands deep in his pockets. His hair was longer, untamed, not plastered to his skull, a slightly trimmed beard on his chin and a fuller figure. From the pictures she had seen some time ago, he had become a walking skeleton. Now however, he fitted his clothes much better.

Sitting back in the chair she watched him being given his coffee.

“Of all the coffee shops in all of New York, you walk into this one” Marianne said loudly enough to get his attention. Malcolm stopped and he looked over to her, his eyes widening.

“Marianne” He was shocked, she smiled, standing up from the table.

“Hello Malcolm...what the hell are you doing here?” Marianne smiled but she was just as shocked. Malcolm walked over to her and he wrapped his arms around Marianne, holding her tightly, being careful with the coffee in his hand. A moment later he pulled away, sitting down at the table Marianne was at and she sat opposite. “You're here, I...blimey” She felt speechless. Malcolm smiled, just watching her.

“It's good to see you” Malcolm leaned forwards on the table, putting the coffee down.

“It's good to see you too, you look good” Marianne smiled. “And I'm sorry, I followed the inquiry and the trial. You shouldn't have gone through all that” She reached across the table and took hold of his hand, squeesing gently. Malcolm sighed, sadness, exhaustion, defeat. It seeped through him.

“Yeah, me too” He whispered. Clearly it had hit him hard. Everything that made Malcolm Tucker was gone.

“They shouldn't have put all that shit on you” Marianne said quietly.

“They had to blame someone” Malcolm shrugged, looking to her hand in his. “And it was all over for me...”

“So why come here? Why?” She asked again, he let go of her hand and sat back, her skin feeling cold. Flexing her fingers she picked up her own coffee cup, sipping it.

Malcolm sighed, watching the table with such intent. “I couldn't take the fuckers any more. The press, my sister bringing her kids every fucking day, trying to 'cheer' me up, been getting calls from private companies wanting me. Fuck'em, I can't” He muttered and looked at Marianne. “So I decided, fuck London. Who do I know who's not in London...who do i-” he bit the inside of his mouth. “Found myself on a plane headed to New York, that was a week ago.”

“You've been here a week, why didn't you call me, I gave you my number” Marianne said to him.

“I lost it, my phones were taken during the trial” Malcolm answered.

“Well that was stupid” she smiled. “But why New York, you could have gone anywhere...”

“You, I've never had many people care about me. I know shit between us were a bit fucked up, I kept fucking it up, you didn't deserve what I said to you-”

“Malcolm stop” Marianne reached over and take his hand again. “I forgave you, I was never angry for what you said. I told you if you ever came over, I'd be there, that's still true.”

Malcolm shook his head. “Come off it, it's been three years. You have a boyfriend, someone like you doesn't stay single.” Marianne scoffed at his words.

“I'm too busy for that” She finished her coffee and put her tablet and notepad away. “Come on, let's go for a walk” Malcolm watched her, with a smile he left the coffee shop with Marianne.

 

    Walking through Central Park, Malcolm actually enjoyed the conversation with Marianne. Which surprised him. Neither talking about politics, or work, just talking. And it felt fucking good. It felt normal.

“Where about's are you staying?” Marianne asked as they walked past the Bethesda Fountain.

“The Strand Hotel” Malcolm watched her, she nodded.

“I know of it” She said and looked at him. “I still can't believe you are here” Marianne smiled.

“Me neither” He agreed. “But here I am”

“Here you are” Marianne nodded and she laughed, as she walked, her fingers brushed Malcolm's, and slowly she wrapped her hand around his, feeling him take a grip in return. Marianne blushed slightly, realising they were walking hand in hand through Central Park. But it felt natural with him, which was kind of weird. “Do you want to come back to my place?” She asked and Malcolm stopped, turning to her.

“What do you think?” He smirked and Marianne chuckled before leading him out of the park and to her apartment.

 

The apartment was nice, it was tidy and homely. Marianne walked into the kitchen to make a drink, leaving Malcolm to admire her home.

“So you are doing well for yourself. Deputy Managing Editor, impressive title” Malcolm said as he stood in the living room, it was small but every apartment in New York was, unless you were rich as fuck. But this was nice. As he walked around he noticed there were no photos, not of family, not of friends. Just a large pile of newspapers. God it was like his own flat.

“It's hard work, keeps me busy but I love it” Marianne walked to Malcolm, passing him a mug which he took.

“So busy you have time for nothing else?” Malcolm noted as she shrugged and sat back on the sofa.

“I'm happy” She said and Malcolm scoffed.

“By the looks of it...no friends, no family photo's, looking pretty lonely.” Malcolm looked down to her.

“Well you'd know all about that” Marianne smirked seeing him raise an eyebrow.

“All right snarky” Malcolm said and sat down beside Marianne, turning to face her. Sipping the drink as he watched her.

“Was it hard, the trial and everything?” Marianne asked with a gentle voice. Malcolm sighed, his mug going on the table.

“They took everything from me, even the clothes off my back if they could've” He said. “I literally could do nothing. I was house bound. The press camped outside-”

“You don't normally care about the press” Marianne cut in

“Yeah well..” Malcolm cast his eyes to the floor. Marianne watched his sadness and reached over to him.”

“I'm sorry Malcolm” She whispered, after putting her mug down she ran her fingers through his hair. Malcolm just watched as she leaned into him, pressing her lips onto his. Snaking his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. Marianne climbed onto his lap, straddling him as she wrestled with his tongue.

Fuck he had missed this, missed her. His hands on her back, fingertips touching the bottom of her hair as she started grinding her hips on his lap, his trousers becoming unbelievably tight. It had been a long three years, far too fucking long. And his hand had become much too tiresome.

 

    The next morning Malcolm untangled himself from the covers, hearing Marianne grumbled and roll away from Malcolm, having been wrapped up against him. He watched her, still fast asleep. Her hair covering half her face, make up slightly smudged, but he liked her post sex look.

Pulling the sheets away, he climbed out of the bed, turning to see Marianne shuffle over to where Malcolm had just vacated. Waking into the bathroom he washed his face. Gazing at his reflection, wincing as a headache came on and he opened the cabinet door, finding some painkillers. Swallowing them with water from the tap, he jumped when he felt slender fingers slide around his waist. Lips pressing on his naked back.

“Good morning” Malcolm turned and he faced Marianne, cupping her face and kissing her lips.

“Headache?” Marianne asked as the kiss separated.

“I'm fine” He said and watched as she stepped into the shower cubicle, she looked over her shoulder to him, inviting Malcolm in. With a grin he leapt across the bathroom, taking Marianne in the shower.

 

“Your eggs sir” Marianne passed Malcolm a plate as he sat at the table.

“I got to say Marianne, this looks fucking good” Marianne laughed.

“Clearly you don't set high standards, u just hope you enjoy it” Marianne sat beside him with her own plate.

Breakfast was enjoyable, she laughed a lot, which was odd for so early. Cleaning up she walked to the bedroom, pulling off her old t-shirt, opening her dresser to find her clothes as she saw Malcolm enter. Perching on the end of the bed and watching Marianne get dressed, searching through the dresser when he suddenly spotted something.

“Is that?” Standing up he pulled out of the dresser a shirt. “Is this?” Marianne looked to Malcolm, shirt in hand, blush creeping onto her face. “This is my shirt” Malcolm noted.

“Yeah, the one you left at my flat” Marianne said as she took out her hoodie.

“You still have it? Why didn't you throw it out?”

“It's a nice shirt, I must have thrown it in with my other clothes when I was packing to move here” She explained, watching Malcolm put the shirt back in the dresser on it's hanger.

“You can keep it safe then” Malcolm smiled. Would be handy having it there for spare.

“You know, there is some room for more in there” Marianne said quietly and Malcolm nodded.

“Suppose there is” Malcolm agreed before sitting back on the bed. Well he couldn't stay in a hotel forever. Maybe there could be something in New York for him.

“What are you doing anywhere?” Malcolm asked watching as she pulled on running tights, clinging to her thighs in all the right places.

“I'm going running” Marianne zipped her hoodie and looked to Malcolm. “Do you want to come?” She asked, guessing the answer already. She had asked him once before and was swiftly turned away.

“Alright” Malcolm answered and Marianne shot him a look, only to see him smiling.

Suddenly it seemed everything would be different now.

 


End file.
